Georgia On My Mind
by stephaniew
Summary: Sam, Dean and Sophia head to Atlanta to follow a case based on signs and nightmares. In trying to save the beautiful blonde at the center of the mystery, Sam might find something even more important: love. Sam/OC, Dean/OC
1. Prologue

A/N: Hi all! Welcome! I'm looking to introduce an OC for Sam to my writing world, and I think I finally found the right girl! I'm also tying this in with Dean and his OC, Sophia, whom you'll know if you're a regular reader of mine. This story will have some case stuff and some romance and some family time, so I hope you enjoy! Reviews are very, very welcome! :)

Special thanks to **TLOGirl** for her beta reading and general story support! She's a fellow writer who's just posted her first Supernatural story here, so please look her up and show her some love as well!

Disclaimer: Much as I wish, I don't own anything related to Supernatural.

Chapter 1: Prologue

Dean Winchester stands on the back porch, beer in hand, watching as his girlfriend straightens from a crouch and tosses another hunk of weeds in the steadily growing pile behind her. He can't help but admire the view. A white tank top hugs her slim frame, emphasizing the golden glow of her lightly tanned skin. Cutoff denim shorts curve over her gorgeous bottom, drawing his gaze down over her long legs, to the low cut socks and beat up white sneakers. He grins and makes his way to her, whistling his appreciation as she bends over the flower bed .

Sophia sends him a withering glare over her shoulder and tosses the next bunch of weeds directly at him. "You know, you could help me out here instead of just ogling my ass, Winchester."

He takes a drag of the beer, not bothering to hide his smirk. "Ogling your sexy ass is way more fun than pulling weeds, babe, sorry."

Standing, she smiles sweetly at him as she pulls off her gloves and wipes her arm across her forehead. Dean tries not to frown as he notices the dark smudges under her beautiful cocoa eyes. "Well, we'll see how you feel when you're not getting anywhere near this sexy ass later tonight."

"Ummm, well, " he mumbles, nearly spilling the beer as he quickly sets it on the ground and reaches for the shovel nearby. "I, uh, was just coming out to help you, sweetheart."

She laughs then and throws her gloves at him. "That's what I thought." She eyes him and the shovel. "If you'd like to be useful, you can dig me a hole for that little tree I bought yesterday."

There's a pause as a new sound filters through the quiet country air: the familiar rumble of the Impala. A wide grin breaks across Sophia's face and she hops up and down before taking off at a run down the side of the house.

Rolling his eyes, Dean reaches for his beer again, thankful for the brief reprieve. He swallows and watches as his brother turns around the corner of the house just in time to catch Sophia as she hurls herself at him.

Sam laughs and catches her as she wraps her arms and legs around him, spider monkey-style. Dean can't hear what she says, but Sam laughs again as she plants a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek.

He kisses her back and sets her down on the ground, his long legs having made up most of the distance back to the flower bed. They walk back toward Dean, arms around each other, matching smiles on their faces.

Dean tries not to smile back at them, keeping a bored look on his face. But his heart swells with emotion as he watches them. Good God, he was a lucky man. A beautiful woman loved him and she and his brother, in turn, adored each other. Yeah, damned lucky.

"Hey, if you're done making out with my girl, get over here and help me dig this hole," he says dryly, shaking the hand Sam holds out to him before giving him a one-armed hug. It's been a couple of weeks since they'd seen Sam. He'd been out with Bobby and Dean and Sophia were taking some time off.

Sophia giggles and reaches up to brush her lips over his. "You'll get yours later, big boy," she murmurs. Stepping back, she smacks his bottom and says, "After you dig that hole."

Dean groans as Sam tries unsuccessfully to hide a smirk. Both men watch her skip back toward the house.

"You are so whipped, man," Sam sniggers.

The older Winchester growls as he jabs the shovel into the dirt in the place where Sophia had indicated. "Shut up, Sam. I wear the pants around here."

Laughter greets his pronouncement and he frowns, stomping his foot on the shovel.

"Oh yeah, right. You wear 'em when she lets you and you know it."

Scooping a shovel full of dirt, Dean dumps it on Sam's shoes, causing the younger man to jump out of the way, scowling. "Ooops, sorry, Sammy." He grins and digs in again.

Sam rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest. "Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Oh, for crying out loud, can't I leave you two alone for five seconds?" Sophia huffs up behind them, carting the small, burgundy leafed Japanese maple in her arms. She sets it carefully next to the hole Dean's working on and puts her hands on her hips, glaring playfully at the brothers.

"Hey, I'm just digging this hole like you asked," Dean replies innocently before 'accidentally' dumping more dirt on Sam's shoes.

"Yeah, right," Sophia replies, skepticism heavy in her voice. Gesturing Dean out of the way, she kneels to settle the tree in its new home. "So," she says casually, "did you ask him yet, Sammy?"

Dean's eyebrows rise. "Ask me what?"

Sophia glares up at Sam and Dean can't help but snicker. He hides it quickly when she turns the glare on him. "Sam..."

Sam shrugs. "He was too busy trying to bury me."

She snorts, patting at the dirt around the tree. "Why don't you boys go in and get some more beers while I finish this up?"

Dean immediately drops the shovel. "Sounds good to me, babe. C'mon, Sammy, I'll get you a beer and explain the birds and bees to you."

Sam gives him a shove, but follows along back to the house, trailed by Sophia's laughter.

~~~SPN~~~

"No, Sam, just no. Not now."

Sam leans back against the counter and crosses his arms. "You know I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I know you and Sophia are taking some time off, but..."

Dean closes his eyes briefly and shuts off the water in the kitchen sink. Reaching for a towel, he dries his hands as he stares at his brother, jaw tight. "No, I'm not doing this. Not while Sophia's still having..." He stops suddenly, looking down at the towel in his hands.

"Sophia's still having what? What's wrong?" Sam is at full attention now, concern clear on his face. "Is she okay?"

"She's fine," Dean mumbles, suddenly intent on getting his hands dry.

Sam rolls his eyes. "I know you both better than that, Dean. What's going on?"

"It's not really my place to tell you. Sophia would kill me." Dean pauses and looks up at his brother. "She's not sick or anything, it's just..."

"I've been having these really disturbing nightmares."

Sophia lets the screen door clatter shut behind her as she enters the bright kitchen. The two men turn to look at her; Dean a little guilty, Sam still concerned.

"Nightmares?" Sam asks, a frown crossing his handsome face. "What kind of nightmares? For how long? Why didn't you tell me?"

Sophia sighs softly and takes a seat at the table. Dean moves immediately to stand behind her, his hands heavy on her shoulders. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and looks up at him with a soft smile.

Turning her attention back to Sam, she says, "For a little more than a week, I guess. I don't really understand them." She closes her eyes and continues. "There's a woman...a blond woman. She's wearing some kind of necklace...a pendant...maybe an amulet. Something's trying to take it from her, but I can't see what it is. And then..." She stops and shudders, clutching at Dean's hand. "And then there's screaming...and so much blood...so much blood."

Sam drops into the seat across from Sophia and reaches for her other hand. "God, I'm sorry. I had no idea."

"So we're not taking on any _other _kind of nightmares or things that go bump in the night or demons or what the hell ever until she's better," Dean growls.

Sophia looks up at him, surprised, but before she can speak, Sam holds up a hand.

"Wait, you said it was a woman and an amulet, right?"

Sophia nods. "An amulet, a charm, something like that."

"I think maybe my case and your nightmares might be related then."


	2. Meet Me in Hotlanta

A/N: Muse was on fire this weekend, so we have another chapter on this one. Hope you enjoy meeting Avery here! Please let me know what you think of Avery and the way this story is going so far! Reviews are love! :)

Special thanks to TLOGirl for her most excellent beta work on this one! She's great with character development and had some really wonderful suggestions for this one!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize from Supernatural.

Chapter 2: Meet Me in Hotlanta

"Jesus, Sam, did you have to drag us to Atlanta during the hottest month on record?"

Sam ignores his brother's whining and continues walking down the busy Piedmont Park sidewalk. The Piedmont Park section of the Midtown neighborhood is a mecca for the arts scene in Atlanta. He scans the various signs on the storefronts, hoping to catch a glimpse of the amulet Sophia had described and he had read about in Bobby's extensive library.

"The kind of bad guys we chase like the heat, Dean," Sophia teases, nudging him with her hip as she tries to keep up with Sam's long-legged stride.

Dean snorts. "They certainly picked the right location this time, then. I think this is actually _hotter_ than Hell."

Sophia cuts a sharp glance at him, and he gives her a grim smile and a shrug. Neither realizes Sam has stopped until they stumble into him.

"Damn it, Sam," Dean hisses, his arm snaking around Sophia to keep her upright. "Signal next time, would ya?"

Sam just stands there, wide-eyed, staring into the window of a photography gallery. He doesn't speak, just waves his hand. Dean and Sophia turn their attention to the display and Sophia gasps.

Right in the center of the window is a close-up shot of a necklace around a woman's neck. The large green stone is nestled just above the curve of her cleavage and is surrounded by an intricate silver setting. Honey blonde hair curls down on either side of the necklace, setting off the color and beauty of the stone.

Turning, Sam meets Sophia's wide, dark eyes. "That's it, isn't it? The stone you see in your dreams?"

She nods, wordless, one hand covering her mouth, the other clutching at Dean's arm.

~~~SPN~~~

"I don't understand," Sophia whispers, staring up at a larger image of the picture in the window. They'd moved immediately inside the store once they'd recognized the amulet only to find a whole exhibit of shots of it. "How on earth could I be dreaming about this?"

Sam shrugs helplessly. "No idea. But we need another picture of her. We need to know who she is."

"She is me."

All three Hunters turn at the sound of the voice behind them. A beautiful blonde stands feet away, arms crossed, expression torn between welcome and suspicion. She stands about 5'6", long honey blonde hair pulled back from her face in a messy knot. She's casually, but elegantly dressed in well fitting designer jeans, an emerald green silk shirt and lightweight pale cotton blazer. Her bright green eyes flash as she takes them in.

"Oh, God," Sophia whispers, leaning heavily against Dean. "That's her." She looks up at Sam, fear and confusion written on her pale face. "That's her!"

The blonde woman stares at them, suspicion now winning over welcome. "What are you talking about?" she demands imperiously. "Who are you people?"

Sophia swallows hard, then moves for the door. Gesturing at Dean to stay, she murmurs, "I just need some air. Talk to her."

Casting a worried look after Sophia, Dean reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an FBI badge. "I'm Special Agent Mannheim, FBI," he says, flashing the credentials quickly before stuffing them back in his pocket. "And this is my partner, Special Agent White."

When Sam doesn't immediately respond to his cue, Dean glances over at him. Sam, however, is simply gaping at the woman in front of them, jaw slack, eyes wide. Dean rolls his eyes and nudges Sam sharply in the ribs. "Special Agent White?" he growls.

"What? Oh, right, yeah, ummm, Special Agent White, that's me," Sam stutters, fumbling for his credentials as he tries to drag his gaze from the now slightly amused face of their target.

As his brother appears to be of no help, Dean takes over the questioning. "So, you're the woman in the photos," he asks, gesturing at the display behind him. At her wary nod, he continues, "And you are?"

She steps forward, holding out a hand. "Avery Thomas. The woman in those photos, the photographer and the owner of this gallery." A light Southern accent colors her words as she relaxes slightly. She shakes hands brusquely with both men, then says, "What makes you so interested in these pictures, Agents? I assure you, there's nothing illegal about them."

"You took the pictures as well as appearing in them?" Sam says, finally finding his voice.

Avery smiles with professional pride and moves closer to the display, running her fingers along the edge of one of the shots. "Yes, with a remote trigger." She gestures at the rest of the room. "I took all of these."

"They're beautiful," Sam murmurs, a touch of awe in his voice, his gaze stuck on her face again.

Avery blushes lightly, appearing a little embarrassed by Sam's attention, as Dean tries to swallow a snort at his brother's behavior. "Um, thank you, Agent." She clears her throat and turns to Dean. "So again I'll ask, what is it you're investigating that involves my photos? Does this have something do with the attacks I read about in the papers recently?"

Dean raises an eyebrow, impressed by her quick deduction. "Potentially, yes," he says, slowly, consideringly. "We believe the necklace you're wearing might be a stolen artifact. Part of a collection thousands of years old. The attacks may be related to an attempt to get it back." He pauses and pulls out a small notebook and pen. "Do you happen to know where the amulet is now?"

Avery nods, her face creased in a frown. "Of course I do. It's at my home. It belongs to me."

"It belongs to you? And how did you come into possession of the piece?" Sam asks.

"It was a gift from a very old friend. I'm not sure where he got it, but he gave it to me several years ago."

"This friend," Dean says, waving his pen, "what's his name? Can we talk to him?"

Sadness flashes across Avery's face, darkening her eyes to a deep jade. "His name was Jackson White. But no, I'm afraid you can't talk to him," she murmurs, "he died last month."

The brother's exchange a telling glance. Sophia's dreams had started around the same time.

Avery shifts restlessly, clearly disturbed by the conversation. "That woman, the one who was with you. She said something like "that's her" when she saw me. What did she mean? Is she from the FBI, too?"

"Um, no, she's a..." Dean stutters.

"She's a witness in another matter," Sam says, jumping in smoothly. "She must have seen your pictures somewhere before."

Frowning, Avery stares at the window toward Sophia, who's pacing the sidewalk outside the gallery. "Well," she says thoughtfully, "we have done a great deal of publicity for the show, maybe she saw something in the papers."

"Tell us about the show," Dean says, trying to draw Avery's attention away from Sophia.

"Oh, well, it's happening tomorrow evening. We're raising money for a local Atlanta woman's shelter. We used the necklace as a centerpiece and we'll be auctioning off the photos for the charity."

Sam and Dean trade glances again. "We'll need to attend the show, ma'am," Sam says. "In case the suspects we're looking for are there. They may make another try for the necklace."

Avery nods. "Oh, yes, of course. I'll make sure my assistant puts you on the list." She clasps her hands in front of her, her expression serious. "What else can I do to assist? We do have security in place for the event, but if there's anything further we need to setup in advance, I'd be happy to make whatever arrangements you think necessary."

Sam smiles at her, that puppy grin of his that makes everyone trust him immediately. "We'll contact you with our suggestions around security, Miss Thomas." he says softly, holding out a business card.

"I'll await your call then, Agent." She takes the card from him, her expression amused again. "And please, call me Avery."

Sam smiles back, dimples flashing. "Thank you...Avery," he murmurs, as Dean pulls him to the door.

"Keep it in your pants, Sammy," Dean hisses as he shoves his brother outside. "We got a case to solve." He glances back at Avery Thomas, who's watching them with a cautious expression. "And she's way out of your league."

~~~SPN~~~

Back at the motel, Sam starts research on Jackson White. "It can't be a coincidence that both Sophia's dreams and the attacks here in Atlanta started when he died," Sam mutters as he works at his laptop.

Sophia sits across from him, notebook in front of her, trying to remember every detail she can from her dreams. "Damn it," she grumbles, tossing down her pen and leaning back in the chair. "I wish I could remember something more. There's got to be something in there that'll help."

Dean moves behind her, massaging her shoulders. "Easy, babe. It's not like it's a movie you can just hit rewind. It was a dream."

"Yeah, a dream that apparently has some roots in reality," she snaps, shrugging off his hands and picking up the pen again. "What if she gets killed because I can't remember something from dreams I've been having for weeks? I should be able to remember more."

"Sophia, whatever happens, it's not your fault," Sam says softly. "You're doing the best you can."

"What if my best isn't good enough?" Sophia grates, shoving the chair back, nearly knocking Dean down. She pushes the notebook off the table, and heads for the door. "I'm going for a walk," she says, slamming the door behind her.

Dean starts to follow, but Sam grabs his arm. "No, let her go. She needs to work through this on her own."

Dean glares at his brother, then, with a frown, rights Sophia's recently vacated chair and flops into it, running his hands over his face. "Fine. What are you finding on this Jackson White character then? We gotta have something before we show up at that shindig tomorrow night."

"Not much really. Looks like he was a world traveler and collector. An Indiana Jones type dude. Retired some years ago and mostly hid away at his estate outside Atlanta."

"Anything connecting him and Avery? She said they were friends."

Sam clicks a few more times. "No... Wait." He whistles softly. "Says here she accompanied him on one of his last travels. Something to the Middle East. They got caught up in some local skirmishes, but managed to get away. Her pictures of the conflict got international attention."

He turns the screen to Dean, clicking through the pictures. "The Middle East, huh? Isn't that where your book said the amulet came from?" Dean asks as he browses the shots.

Sam nods. "Exactly. Another coincidence?"

"Not likely," Dean says with a snort. "Did Bobby get any more info on the origins of the thing?"

"Not yet. Just that it first appeared in Babylon. Not clear what it does or who might have made it."

"Well, hell," Dean says with a heavy sigh. "Guess we're goin' into tomorrow night blind as always."

"So what else is new?" Sam replies with a snicker. "Unless Sophia comes up with something else from her dreams."

No sooner are the words out of his mouth when the door bursts open and Sophia stumbles through the door.

"I know what's after that necklace," she says breathlessly. "I know what's after Avery."


End file.
